A Leaf That Rots Without Falling
by somedayisours
Summary: "When she looks back on it—because how could she not—the excuse of 'at the time it had seemed like a sensible idea' is not enough to alleviate the guilt." They say that children make mistakes, that it's a natural part of growing up. (Ochako is the traitor.)


**A Leaf That Rots Without Falling**  
" _When she looks back on it—because how could she not—the excuse of 'at the time it had seemed like a sensible idea' is not enough to alleviate the guilt._ " They say that children make mistakes, that it's a natural part of growing up. (Ochako is the traitor.) Part of **Bloom in All Four Seasons**.

Title from the book **The Setting Sun** by Osamu Dazai.

* * *

 _01._

"A hero is the leaf that... No, the root's that support the tree of society!"

The young girl scrunched her nose at her cousin's poor attempt at philosophy, not truly understanding what's being said. She's too busy hunting through the over grown grass in her grandmother's flowerbed in search of a grasshopper to care to try.

Unbothered by his younger cousin's disinterest, Yōsuke pushed himself up from where he lay in the grass gazing up at the clouds, and joins Ochako in her search. Prying a large rock from the ground for her to catch a glimpse of the worms and other insects hiding beneath.

 _10._

When she looks back on it—because how could she not—the excuse of 'at the time it had seemed like a sensible idea' is not enough to alleviate the guilt. So she does not to dwell on the past, can not, if she has any hope of making it through the day. And yet no one ever accuses her of being a coward.

 _07._

"It was good to catch up."

Her mother smiles warmly at the flattery, diluted into think that he actually visited because he cares.

"You know you're always welcome here, Yōsuke."

All through dinner he played the mild-mannered college student, making small talk about the weather and her father's work like he cared. What doubts her parents had at the beginning of the meal were washed away in the face of his charm, he was still the boy they remembered from all those years ago it seemed.

"I'll walk him out," she announces unceremoniously while stepping down next to him to slip on her shoes.

"Sure."

That same smug smile remains unwavering affixed to his face the whole while. She hates him.

It's bracingly cold out, the moon pouring down on them from the cloudless sky. They make it halfway between the house and his car before the silence becomes unbearable.

"You won't touch them," she snarls in his face, dizzy from her adrenaline fueled rage.

"Just do your job," He growls unflinchingly between gritted teeth, "And I won't have to."

 _06._

It's a startling, and truly uncomfortable realization, that she's less interested in being with Izuku and more interested in being him. Toga's words haunt her like a whisper of warm breath along the shell of her ear. A reminder of something she never wanted to know.

 _02._

Like all things eventually do, those scorching summer days spent exploring the countryside with Yōsuke came to an end. It wasn't that he had no interest in spending his break with Ochako—or at least she didn't think he did—it was with their grandmother's death that they lost the place where they spent time together. The small family had no real reason to gather over the summer without the elderly woman to demand a visit. When she thinks back on it later in life her grandmother's passing marked a change in her life, a department from childhood. Those were sweet memories, for a time.

 _09._

It's not that she isn't relieved, she doesn't even have to fake the long sigh and brittle smile that comes with the news of their success. But the equally momentous announcement that follows doesn't leave her with the same euphoria. It does the opposite, really.

The question of 'what happens now', haunts her. Could she have helped them, she weighed someone's life against her own happiness, and left Bakugō to suffer because of it. Yōsuke's threat was ever present in her mind, he hadn't really wanted to hurt her parents, did he? It's not as if she could go back, if that were possible she would have abandoned this farce long ago.

She finds herself drawn back to that same question, the one that causes her to lay awake at night repeating to herself.

"What kind of hero am I?"

 _05._

"You don't understand!" Ikeda snapped, turning to stare across the park at the children playing loudly. "You're going to be a hero, Uraraka. Don't waste your time on me."

"Ikeda..."

But then he's gone, throwing himself from the park bench and taking off down the path before she has a chance to react any further, unknowingly leaving chaos in his wake.

Maybe if she were a better person she would have pushed herself off the bench and followed him. Maybe he wanted her to chase him down, deny the flimsy belief of his worthlessness, and convince him to seek help, to confront his problems and look towards a better future. It's what she should have done, it's what a hero would have done. But she's not one, is she? Not really. Somewhere along the way she became a villain without consciously realizing it. Why does she even bother at all.

 _04._

It doesn't matter what security Yōsuke promises, or how often he goes out of his way to reassure her of her safety. She never gives them more than the bare minimum, nor does she bother to ask for anything in return. She knows she's walking an incredibly thin line, if she doesn't balance it properly it will all come crashing down on her head and burying her alive. She just has to be careful.

 _08._

For all their arguing Ochako doesn't hate Bakugō Katsuki, she might not think of him favorably, but she does respect him. His unflinching commitment is admirable in the same way that Izuku's reckless determination is.

She's lucky not to choke on her own bitter words when she refuses their offer to play savior, they fall heavy in their cruelty from her lips. What hurts even more—than anything she's done before—is their blinding acceptance in the face of her rejection, how they take the lies that role off her tongue with such serious understanding. With sympathy.

She could hate them for it.

 _03._

When she sees it for the first time she's locked in place, feeling the impeccably polished wood slide beneath her sock covered feet, the heat of the sun on her back from the open door that leads back out into the perfectly crafted garden, and the smell of incense and wood lingering in the air. The building has to be nicer than any place she's been in before, for all it's prestige UA is still a school and has no chance of measuring up to the likes of this.

The traditionally dressed woman who granted them entrance glides of the floor and disappears around the corner, seemingly unwilling to have them linger in the entrance any longer.

"Come on," Yōsuke cajoled, "Don't want to make Yuzuki angry, do you?"

"Yuzuki?" Ochako can't help but tease despite of the nerves causing her stomach to twist in knots.

The red faced sputtering is worth it, she purposefully smirks as she follows the Yuzuki woman from the room, and down the hallway on the right where she stands waiting.

"Do try to be respectful," she cautioned with a disguising drawl, casting a critical eye over the both of them. "Keep your mouth shut unless spoken to."

The shōji door drifts open along the track with little resistance under Yuzuki's dainty hands. She slips into the room first, speaking in a wispy voice wildly different from the one she'd used with them moment earlier.

The man's rumbling reply causes every hair to stand on end, the pain in her gut tripling as her body tells her to run.

Yuzuki sweeps past them just as smoothly, ushering them into the room and sliding the door shut behind them. The thunk of wood meeting wood causes Ochako to jump in surprise.

Yōsuke puts his steady hand on her shoulder and squeezes it in a silent show of support. he guides her further into the room to kneel before the man, her head bent as if she were bowing before the emperor instead of the most notoriously dangerous man alive.

The steady hand on her shoulder is a shallow comfort, less of a reassurance than it should have been.

* * *

Good day for writing, bad day for everything else.


End file.
